


Discreet

by eratothemuse



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Jealousy, NSFW, Oral Sex, Possessiveness, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, age gap, not safe for work, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 16:56:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Rick finds it difficult to remain discreet after stuff & things have developed between him and Maggie’s baby sister, especially when she catches the eye of Spencer Monroe, who doesn’t shake off easily. Maybe Rick isn’t so good at sneaking around, after all.





	Discreet

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this Imagine: Imagine being Maggie’s baby sister and so everyone is protective of you, so when Spencer tries to come on strong to you at the welcoming party, Rick, who you have a huge crush on, steps in when he won’t take no for an answer.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!  
> \- Meg <3 xx

Rick was on edge. Whatever Deanna was telling him was only being half-comprehended, as every so often his eyes would wander to you, the real focus of his attention. Sometimes, you’d catch his stare, only to quickly look away as you shifted in place. As if you thought he could see right through you. **  
**

You were talking to Spencer, which was undoubtedly not your idea, as he had consistently sought you out since you set the first foot in Alexandria. Rick could practically taste the flirtatious energy coming from him, even though you were on the other side of Deanna’s living room and well out of earshot, thanks to the amount of people who had shown up to this, “little get-together to boost morale,” as Deanna had pitched it to him.

Well, it wasn’t doing a damn for Rick’s morale. If anything, Rick could feel his mood devolving with each passing second that he watched Spencer lay his advances into you. You looked uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly away from the Monroe boy as he reached forward to brush a stray hair from your cheek. It almost made Rick sick, and he decides to abandon his glass of bourbon on a nearby table coaster.

Rick takes the pause in Deanna’s conversation to direct her attention elsewhere, “Hey, Deanna, I’m going to go see how my group’s settling in with the others, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, that’s great, Rick! Be sure to tell me how they’re doing, later, won’t you?” she requests, but is soon called away by her husband, who wanted to talk about something Rick doesn’t fully catch. Not that he cares. He was currently stalking across the room towards where you and Spencer stood, maneuvering around party-goers and lounge chairs. By now, he was close enough to hear your conversation.

“... and we brought back a load of meds. Denise should be stocked for the next couple of months, thanks to us,” Spencer brags, looking quite satisfied with himself. You know better than to believe his whole story. After all, you’d heard from Glenn _exactly_ what he and his group were like to go on runs with.

“Wow, that’s great,” but your tone is bland, disinterested, and tired of Spencer’s company. You had been trying to politely abandon him for the past five minutes, to no avail. Anyone you could use as an excuse to leave him either wasn’t in this room or was busy with their own conversation. Namely, Rick was the sole member of your group that remained in the living room, the rest of them having trickled out not long after the party got into full swing, and he was far too busy with Deanna for you to count on him saving you from Spencer. When you tried to get out of the conversation on your own, Spencer always seemed to keep dragging you into another topic, or outright asking you out before you can make your escape, and you were starting to run out of excuses. These days, you felt as if you would rather face a hoard of walkers all on your own than spot Spencer on the street. Truthfully, it would be less painful. At least the walkers wouldn’t keep trying to get in your pants.

“Yeah, maybe on the run tomorrow, you can come with, and I can show you a thing or two,” Spencer adds, and you raise your brows at him in an offense you can’t help but to feel. Did he really think you didn’t know how to go on a run for supplies? Spencer leans in, lowering his voice as if what he’s saying shouldn’t be heard by the people around you, “Or, I could bring you back something special just for you. Anything you’ve been wanting lately?”

_Right now? A noose._

“(Y/N),” you sigh with relief at the gruff voice of the man behind you, grateful for the interruption and the fact that Rick’s presence resulted in Spencer taking a step away from you. You look towards Rick, feeling your heart skip a beat with how amazing he looked up close. He was wearing a white button-down that was cleaner than any clothes you’d ever seen him in before you arrived in Alexandria, the remnants of his clean shave slowly being overtaken by the stubble that threatened to erupt into a full-grown beard all over again. In a treacherous instant, your mind betrays you by remembering just how his smooth skin had felt between your thighs right after he'd first shaved. You wonder how the scruff would feel, now. Steeling yourself at the thought, you outwardly remain as neutral towards him as possible when his baby blues catch your gaze when it flicks up from his lips, “I need to talk to you about Judith. Was thinking maybe you could watch her tomorrow for me.” Rick’s hand comes to your back and you easily lean into his touch, ready for him to guide you away from Spencer.

“Actually,” Spencer interrupts, “we were just talking about her coming on the run with me tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, if I’m needed with the baby,” you quickly try to get the notion of you going anywhere with him out of Spencer’s head, nodding towards Rick with a desperate look in your eye for any excuse to get to avoid Spencer.

He’s on the same page, nodding along with you, “Yeah, Carl hasn’t been feelin’ so well, and everyone else has a job tomorrow that can’t be rescheduled. Could really use (Y/N)’s help on this one. Don’t want Carl gettin’ her sick before he can see Denise, just to be safe.” For a moment, you wonder if Rick is telling the truth about Carl not feeling well, or if that was just another lie. Rick shoots Spencer a tight smile, preventing any further discussion of the matter with a curt, “Sorry, I’ve gotta’ steal her from you tomorrow.” Rick adds some pressure to your back, guiding you to walk with him away from Spencer, “Now, let’s talk about Judith.”

Spencer doesn’t look satisfied in the least, but doesn’t dare outwardly argue with Rick on the subject, instead settling for a nod towards you, “See you around, then.”

Rick urges you out of the living room, pausing once you’re outside on the Monroe’s front porch, “Has Spencer been bothering you lately? I see him hangin’ around you a lot.”

“Trust me, it’s not because I want him to,” you let out a long sigh, glad to be out of that party and breathing in the fresh Alexandrian air. “God, I hate these parties Deanna throws. I’m forced to be in a house with him if I do come, and if I don’t I make our group look bad. And then there’s Maggie; she feels better when I’m where she can keep an eye on me.”

“Hey,” Rick’s hand slips to your arm, his thumb caressing your forearm and getting your eyes to turn on him, “if you don’t wanna’ come, you don’t have to come. You know that.” He quickly lets go of you when a group of people step out onto the porch, though they go to the opposite end of it than you. Still, his voice lowers to keep your conversation private, but the clench of his jaw displays his annoyance, “Look, let me talk to Spencer for you.”

“Rick, wouldn’t that be suspicious?” you worry. You know why he’s so acutely aware of Spencer’s attention to you, but the rest of the world wasn’t.

Ever since the very first party Deanna held, welcoming your group to Alexandria, you and Rick had developed a relationship that was more than friendly, though you kept it to yourselves thus far. Mainly, due to the distance between his age and yours. Sure, you were an adult, but he still had far more years on you than most people would find acceptable, not to mention he met you when you were a teenager, even though nothing happened between you until recently. You really didn’t want to deal with other people's opinions right now, especially with your whole group already under the Alexandrians’ microscope since you were new to their neighborhood.

And then there was Maggie. You didn’t know how she would take it. You were the baby of the family, barely a year younger than Beth, which had always come with some sense of overprotection from your parents, but after losing your father, Shawn, and Beth, Maggie had kept a close watch on you. There was some guilt still there, for getting separated from Beth, for that being the last time she saw her alive, and you were the one who had to deal with the repercussions of that. While you understood where she was coming from, it didn't make her overprotectiveness any less annoying sometimes. Hell, since she got you behind these walls of Alexandria, she hadn't let you out of them. That was why you were wary of her reaction to what was going on between you and the former Sheriff. Even over the years she’s known Rick, you still didn’t think she would be too keen on the idea of you taking a roll in the hay with the man. She still saw you as a kid. Situated you right next to Carl in her head, even though he was a good three years younger than you.

You and Carl had discussed your annoyances at being treated like kids many a time. You’d listened to him gripe about the fact that he was seventeen and had killed more walkers than probably all of Alexandria’s grown men, a notion you figured was just about right. In all honesty, you had probably killed more walkers than them, too. Fact of the matter was, with the way the world went downhill, no one could afford to be sheltered anymore. That was part of why you found the state of the inhabitants of Alexandria so jarring. Most of them had never seen what a walker could really do to a person… let alone what a person could do to another.

You look back to Rick, shaking off your all too vivid remembrance of Terminus, “I mean, if you say anything, he might start wondering why you care...”

“You were already like family before we…” Rick clears his throat and smiles as another Alexandrian passes by, “I don’t think it’ll raise any questions about us if I just gave him a talking to. Us, we look out for each other.” You knew good and well the ‘we’ in his words referred to your group. Regardless of how welcoming the Alexandrians had been, it still felt like there was an ‘us’ and a ‘them.’ You wonder if that feeling will ever go away. You still weren't sure if you wanted it to. Rick searches your face, before adding with a bit of an edge to his tone, “Either way, why do you care what Spencer Monroe thinks?”

“You know that is not what I care about, Rick,” you huff. “Don’t twist my words like that.”

“Then let me have a talk with Spencer,” he demands, his voice a solid promise, “he won’t bother you again after that.”

“Look, can you _please_ not start something with their leader’s son over me?” you couldn’t believe you were the one being rational right now. “As much as I want to take you up on that offer, I don’t think pissing Spencer off is a good idea. At least, not while we are still so new here.” Rick gives you an incredulous expression, tilting his head to the left like he always did when he was annoyed at something. You're annoyed at yourself that his angry look turned you on. Man, you must be really fucked up. “Don’t you give me that look,” you frown, but he only shakes his head and turns towards the porch railing, gripping it and taking a deep breath before he looks back at you. Rick’s expression hadn't softened at all, his blue eyes still dark and intense.

“Let me handle this, (Y/N).”

You don’t back down, despite the way his tone sounded more like an order than anything else, “No, Rick. Cool off some, then decide if you still want to get into it with Spencer. I’m not letting you do something stupid, just because you’re jealous over nothing.”

“Jealous?” Rick’s scoffs a little louder than he’d intended, before he lowers his voice again, “I have nothing to be jealous over, honey, especially not that boy.” But he was clearly stewing at the idea of Spencer flirting with you as consistently as he had been, just itching to nip that behavior in the bud.

“Exactly,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion as you try to get your point across, “you have _nothing_ to be jealous of. As if I would go for Spencer? I happen to like _men_ , not _boys_.” You smirk at him, leaning over the rail to just slightly brush your arm against his before you add with a bit of sass, “Or haven’t you figured that out yet?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to like that?” Rick turns towards you, but his lips show he is less than annoyed. The hue of his blue eyes has darkened at your flirting, his own smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. God, you find yourself aching for his hands on you right then. The past few days had been awful, as you hadn't been able to catch some alone time with him between his new position as Constable, Maggie needing your help, and Spencer seeking you out. Maybe that had been the catalyst for his reaction to Spencer tonight.

“I do think I’m talking to you,” you bait, biting your bottom lip as you grin mischievously at him.

Rick leans closer, so close his breath can be felt hot against your neck, his voice barely a whisper as his low tone vibrates through your very soul, “Don't sass me, little girl, or I might have to turn you over my knee.” You can’t help the whimper that escapes you at the thought, a deep heat settling between your legs. Licking your lips, you're about to answer---

“There y’all are!”

You try your best to not jump away from him at the sound, Rick turning towards your sister far more casually than you had managed. You find Glenn right behind her, both of them completely oblivious to just what Rick was whispering to you before their interruption.

“What are you guys doing out here?” Glenn raises a brow, throwing his thumb to point over his shoulder, “Party's in there.”

Rick answers for you both, “Needed some air.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying your best to seem casual as you shrug, “the people in there… it was crowded.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Maggie nods, you both sharing a knowing look. The Alexandrians were out of touch with the reality outside these walls. Her hand finds Glenn's as she points towards the house that had come to be designated as theirs… well, yours, too, “Let’s head back. It's gettin’ late anyways.”

Part of you internally groans, wishing for anything that could result in you spending a little more time with Rick, but coming up with no other excuses.

“Alright,” you murmur, hoping you don't sound too disappointed. Sparing a glance at Rick, you notice the dissatisfied look in his eyes, “Tell Carl I'm heading home, please.” _Good night._

“Sure will,” Rick nods, his gaze lingering a beat longer than usual before you turn back to Maggie and Glenn, who were already descending the porch steps.

You feel his eyes following you, knowing good and well he couldn't leave the party yet. Annoyed and frustrated in more ways than one, you follow Glenn and Maggie back home, finding your outlet in complaining about the party along the way. Resigning yourself to another typically uneventful night, you follow your normal nightly routine, before finding yourself lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, the ache between your thighs just as unbearable as if Rick was standing right in front of you, still.

“Damn it,” you groan, the hushed whisper deafening with the silence that came with the end of the world. There were no sounds of the city, a dead silence overcoming the house you shared with Maggie and Glenn, signaling their deep slumber while you laid there, wide awake and just about as frustrated as could be. Your mind wanders to Rick as your hand travels to your navel. Why did he have to be like that? He already looked like sin itself, and then to talk to you the way he did? A sigh comes from you as your mind devolves into thinking about just what could come from his lips when he had you beneath him. You’re about to give into your frustration, your fingers nearing the waistband of your pajama shorts, when you hear a sound break the silence of your room.

A tick at the window. You look towards it in an alert confusion, straining for any further sound. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it had been a rock. You hear it again, the sharp tap against the glass bringing you to your feet to push the curtain out of the way just enough to peer out into the night. You nearly have a heart attack at the sight.

Unlocking and wrenching the window open, you whisper harshly into the night, “Rick Grimes, are you insane? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

There he was, grinning up at you, “Come down and let me in.” He gestures for you to come down. You can’t believe he thought this was at all a good idea.

“What?! I can’t!” you whisper frantically, “Maggie and Glenn are asleep and the stairs creak so loud, it’ll wake ‘em up!”

“Okay, then I’m comin’ up,” he calls back, making you nearly slip your hold on the windowsill in shock. This man had lost his mind.

“Wait! Rick?” you gasp as he comes to the edge of the house, out of your sight for a moment thanks to the slight edge of the roof outside your window. You hear a grunt and what sounds acutely like the sound of a thud against the gutter, before you catch sight of his head poking up onto the roof. “You are absolutely crazy!”

You reach out to him nonetheless, tugging him up with all your might assisted only by his hand on the roof until he manages to hike his knee up and over, shooting you one of the most unabashedly reckless smirks you think you’d ever seen on him before he comes climbing after you through the window with a grunt of, “I’m gettin’ too old for this.”

You stumble away from him before you catch your footing, his boots thudding on the carpet hard, and causing you both to freeze, worried the commotion had woken the two in the other room. You look at him in a moment of panic, your ears straining for any other sound aside from the two of you, but after a minute of silence, you both relax. He hadn’t woken them up.

“When we get caught,” you grin lopsidedly at him, “know it’s gonna’ be all your fault, okay?”

Rick leaves the window open as he moves towards you, his hands slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him, “If we get caught, I’m gonna’ make sure it’s ‘cause you couldn’t keep quiet.” You melt into him when his lips come crashing down to yours, drinking you in. His kiss is open, desperate, and needy--- much the same as yours. Your fingers tangle into his curls, tugging at them gently as you mewl into his kiss, muffled by his tongue against your own. He steps you back against the bed, about to push you onto it, before you break the kiss.

“We can’t!”

“What?” Rick looks genuinely confused, misunderstanding your hesitation.

“No, I mean we can’t do it on the bed,” you rush quietly, “it creaks.” He glances over your shoulder, squinting through the darkness to take his first good look at your bed. It was old, that was for sure, and iron. The quilt that covered it made it clear that the person you’d inherited this room from had been an elderly woman, most likely. He leaves your side for a second, pressing down with his hand onto the mattress to find you were telling the truth. Cockily, you cross your arms over your chest, when the bed squeaks like a pig with the weight he puts on it, “Told you.”

Rick glances over to you, a glint in his eye that sent hot lust through you, “Alright.” You watch him tug the quilt from its place on the bed, fanning it out on the floor before you. The gruff tone of his voice sounds through the room, “I’ll be fine with fuckin’ you on the floor, then.” Kicking off his boots, he kneels to sit on the pallet he’d made with the quilt, reaching out to you to curl his index and middle fingers at you, “Come here.”

You do as you’re told, moving through the darkness towards him, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. His hands come to your thighs first, smoothing up them as you move closer. They slip up your body as you lower yourself into his lap, using your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself until you find yourself in your seat. Rick’s lips brush your neck, his teeth and tongue scraping the skin down to your collarbone, where he sets in and sucks between kisses. You don’t care in the least if he marks you up. What he’d done to you days ago had nearly faded, and you found yourself missing the reminder of his lips on your body, regardless of how silly it may sound.

“I missed you, Rick,” you whisper, hearing the breathiness of your own voice. Your hands slip from his shoulders to his chest, feeling his body beneath your touch before they migrate to the top button of that white cotton shirt. He looked so well put-together; you wanted to mess him up.

“You know how much it killed me this week?” he murmurs at your ear, taking to kissing right beneath it, “To not be able to touch you? To watch that idiot touching you tonight?” His lips move to your jaw, “Touching what’s _mine_?”

You gasp when he nips at your skin, his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs as he moves your hips to grind into his, pistoning you right against the hard press of the bulge in his tight jeans, “That’s right, I’m yours.” You look down at him, his eyes appearing black in the darkness of the night, your lips brushing against his own, “All yours.”

“ _Mine_ ,” Rick growls against your lips before claiming them once again, your hands fumbling against the buttons of his shirt, but finding their rhythm once again as you move the fabric from his chest, exposing him to you. His own hands had slipped into your clothes, one beneath the back of your shirt and the other into your shorts and panties, grasping against your ass to continue your slow rock against him.

You come away from his kiss breathless, relishing in the slight burn you felt thanks to the scratch of his stubble. You push his shirt over his shoulders, forcing his hands from you, but keeping your pace all on your own as you grind into him. The sigh you get from him as he lets you tug the shirt from his arms only spurs you on. You know you must have soaked your panties by now with how wet you were for him.

“You’re wearing too much,” you grunt, moving your hands to his pants before he grabs hold of you by your back, just to roll you so he was on top. There was no hiding the annoyance you felt at the loss of Rick’s body heat on yours when he leans out of your reach to handle his pants himself, but you make use of the time by hooking your thumbs into the waist of your shorts and tugging them, along with your panties, down your legs. You have one foot out of them by the time he’s tugging you back towards him, feeling the quilt bunch up underneath you as it slides along the carpet, unrestrained.

Neither of you were much in the mood for foreplay after the torture that had been nearly a week without him inside you, your hands finding his chest to slip down him as you relished in the feeling of him above you. He was in much the same mindlessly lustful state as you, the hard weight of his length slipping between the folds of your core and rubbing your clit deliciously. You moan at the feeling, his hands hot against your body as he grasps at the junction of your waist and your hip, your legs coming around him in your urge to have him just like you want.

“Rick,” you moan, reaching between you to press him further into you as your hips jut up to feel the grind of his head against your clit once more.

“You’re gonna’ kill me someday, girl,” Rick’s voice is dangerous, the huskiness that you had realized only came to it when he was in the middle of sex coating you like a blanket, as he falls to his elbows over you and takes another slow grind through your folds, hitting against your clit. When he pulls back, his next thrust slides him inside you, inch by glorious inch. Your squeal chokes off in your throat, his hand covering your mouth to keep you as quiet as he can as he buries his own low moan into your neck, pinning you between his weight and the floor that was barely softened by the quilt beneath you. You were just thankful you wouldn’t have a rug burn in the morning, though, if you did, it would still be worth feeling like this.

Rick fills you up slowly, bottoming out inside you and grinding his pelvis against your body as he whispers, “ _Fuck_ , (Y/N).”

“I want you to fuck me--- fuck me, Rick,” you gasp out as you tug his hand from your mouth, breathing hard with him inside you. “Do me hard.”

“I’ll do you how I want,” he growls, moving out of you slowly, just to taunt you, but you know how this will end. It will end as it always does, with him ramming you as hard as he can. You know how he likes it.

“Rick,” you strangle on his name, swearing you can feel every ridge--- every vein in his dick with the slow pace he was pulling out until, finally, he slams his hips back into you hard enough to make you see stars and gasp out in pleasure. His hand finds your mouth again, but this time, instead of covering it, he slips his thumb against your lips.

“Stay quiet! Do you want Glenn and Maggie to see you like this?” Rick groans when your lips part and you take his thumb into your mouth, pulling out of you just as slowly as before only to thrust harshly back into you, grinding deep against you when he does. You were so close, and he’d barely even started with you. You had no clue how long you were going to last, instead focusing on his finger in your mouth rather than your impending orgasm.

You moan his name again, but it comes out jumbled by his thumb as he picks up the pace, growing tired of his own torturous pace. Before long, his hips are hitting yours in quick thrusts, drilling you into the floor as he moans quietly behind his bit lip. You drink in the sight of him, brows pushed together in concentration, eyes dark with lust, his lips bruised by your own as the sounds of your quiet, desperate lovemaking fill the room.

You’ve never needed him more than you do right now, it feels like. When his hand slips from your mouth to your chest, giving your breast a squeeze as his wet thumb brushes your nipple forcefully, you can barely keep quiet. You feel yourself snap, the coil in your stomach breaking as you clamp down around his length within you, your inner walls spasming with the force of the orgasm you’d needed for so long. Mouth open in a silent cry, you arch against him, never feeling his pace let up in the least as he milks every ounce of your orgasm from you before quickly pulling out at the last minute before his own spreads hot spurts of cum along the valley of your abdomen, below your navel. His weight falls, just barely caught by his hand against the floor beside you, but you hardly mind as he pants into your neck, your own heart thundering in your chest as you try your hardest to catch your breath.

Neither of you had lasted too long, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, feeling more sated in this instant than you had in an hour of working with your own hand these past nights. You hold his body to yours, tilting your head back to give his lips passage when they brush against your neck to trail sloppily up your jaw before meeting your own in a clumsy, post-orgasmic kiss that was more tongue than anything else.

You stay there like that, neither of you willing to break the kiss other than to initiate another, before finally he leans away to claim the place by your side, taking the weight of his cock that was heavy against your tingling clit with him.

“Do you have to go home now?”

You already know the answer.

Rick moves to press his nose against your cheek, and you can’t help but turn your face to kiss him once more, your fingers brushing against the stubble at his jaw before he parts from you, “Wish I didn’t.”

“Me, too,” you sigh, collapsing back onto the quilt as he rises from it, giving you a grand view as he bends to take his clothes from the floor around you. Flipping onto your stomach, you tease him through the darkness as he tugs his underwear back up his thighs, “Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave, _Officer_.”

He shoots you a lecherous glance, a smirk at his lips, “Don’t call me that when I’m tryin’ to leave.”

* * *

Your sour mood at having woken up to your empty bed is only slightly alleviated in the morning as you go down the stairs to find Glenn in the kitchen, earning a welcome when he notices your entrance, “Good morning!” His smile is something you can't help but return. Maggie really did catch a good one in him.

“Mornin’,” you take to rummaging in the cabinets for something quick to eat, settling on the box of oatmeal that threatened to expire in a week. “You eat yet, or you want me to fix you something?” Fixing your meal, you quickly stick it in the microwave to cook, absentmindedly tugging up the collar to your jacket in the hopes that it’s high enough to keep the marks along the edge of your neck covered for today. Glenn doesn’t notice.

“Yeah, just came in to get some water to bring to Maggie. She's watching the walls today,” his smile lingers, a loving look in his eye that came whenever he talked about her. Even to your bitter heart, it was adorable.

“Fun,” you comment with playful sarcasm, getting a chuckle from Glenn.

“Better than fighting geeks, at least,” he grabs his glasses of water as you nod in agreement. Glenn gives you a curious look, “What’s it you plan on doing today?”

“Oh, you know, I’m gonna’ twiddle my thumbs, watch the grass grow,” you grin, “might even knit a sweater. Gotta’ get accustomed to the Alexandrian lifestyle.” Glenn snorts at that, shaking his head at your joke.

“It's not so bad here, you know. We can have a life here, maybe. One that doesn't involve worrying about walkers 24/7.”

“Yeah,” you wave him off, “but getting out of the survival mindset is proving a little difficult for me.”

“It’s hard on all of us,” he agrees, a silence settling on the two of you. The beep of the microwave brings you out of whatever contemplation you'd been in, causing him to remember his task as he looks back to the water, “I should get this to Maggie.”

“Glenn?” you stop him before he can go, making him pause in the doorway, “I know y’all are on the inside of the fence, but you two still be safe, okay?”

With a knowing smile, he returns the sentiment, “You, too.”

Tugging your oatmeal out of the microwave, you don't bother leaving the kitchen to eat it. Instead taking to looking out the window as you spoon down your meal, your mind wandering to Rick and last night until you shake yourself out of it. No use in worrying about him, now; he was probably already out roaming the streets as Constable with Michonne at his side, and would be until tonight. You wondered if he’d sneak in again tonight.

It was sunny outside, and by the time you finish your food, you feel the great urge to find out what maybe Carl or Daryl were doing. Quickly washing out your bowl, you head outside, glancing down the street to see a slew of Alexandrians doing all kinds of things.

When you pass by Carol's house, she sends you a wave that you return with a smile, trying not to chuckle at her suburban cardigan, “Mornin’, Carol!” She seemed to be playing the sweet older lady, and you sure weren't about to tell anyone different.

“Good morning! Where are you headed?” she calls from her porch.

You gesture to the road, “Just looking for Daryl or Carl. Seeing if anyone needs some help with something today.”

“I think Carl is watching Judith,” she hums, pointing off down the road in front of you, “And Daryl headed off that way, last I saw. I think he may go on a run today.”

“That same one Spencer and his guys are going on?” you frown. You hadn't thought Daryl would volunteer for that.

She shrugs, “Sorry, I don't know.”

“Well, thanks anyway!”

“No problem, hun!”

You sigh, heading off in the direction she said Daryl went in. With any luck, he would be heading out alone, and maybe you could tag along. You were dying to get out of Alexandria for a few hours. It would kill two birds with one stone; you would get Rick off your mind and sate the need to be anywhere but Alexandria. Worst case scenario, Daryl was going on the run with Spencer, and then you could just use the Judith excuse Rick had given you last night to get out of that.

You find him at the gates, loading up a bike you hadn't seen before, “Leave it to Daryl Dixon to find a motorcycle in the suburbs.”

He looks up at you through his hair, catching the mirth on your face before looking back to a bag hitched to the side of the seat, “It ain't mine.”

“Oh? Whose is it?” you walk the length of the bike, admiring it. It seemed in good condition, considering the apocalypse had hit. You wondered if it had ever rode outside Alexandria.

“Aaron and Eric said I could fix it up. Use it,” Daryl offers.

“Sure sounds a lot like it's yours, then,” you smirk at him, but he doesn't look up at you. You sigh, wishing he hadn't become so withdrawn lately. Maybe being here would do him some good, you hoped. “Are you going out there?”

“Nah, I'm just gettin’ ready to have a tea party,” Daryl huffs sarcastically, making your grin break out once more. There's a glimpse of the Daryl you knew.

“You going with Spencer's crew?” that gets a glance from him, no doubt a brow or two raised under his bangs.

“Why? Ya’ got the hots for that guy, or somethin’?”

“Ugh, no. I would literally rather die, thanks,” you scoff, making the corner of his lips twitch upwards in amusement, “I just wanna’ know, because if you're not, I want to go with you.”

“Ya’ ask Maggie and Rick if ya’ could?”

“Why should I have to? Do I look like I need to ask for permission?” you frown, taking a step towards Daryl as he gives you a look that said he seemed to think you did, “Come on, you know I can handle myself out there. I just want to be useful and do something outside of this place, for once.”

To your dismay, Daryl shakes his head at you, “I ain't goin’ on Spencer's run, but I ain't takin’ ya’ unless Maggie and Rick say so.”

“Daryl, come on,” you whine, leaning on the bike, “I am too old to need their say so! I'm going to go stir crazy in here if you don’t take me!”

“Tough luck, girl,” Daryl comments, adjusting his bow on his shoulder in a way that settled the matter. You knew he wasn't about to budge on this, even if the look in his eyes told you he agreed with you.

“You know what? You're no help at all, Dixon!” you roll your eyes, hearing his chuckle as you stalk away from him.

“I'm leavin’ in five,” you hear him call after you, “Come back if they say ya’ can go.”

But you both know good and well that even if you got the go-ahead from Rick, Maggie would shut you down immediately. It had been the same every time you had tried to go on a run, always kept locked inside Alexandria by her.

You resign yourself to your fate for now, knowing you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Daryl about it. Besides, he would probably see through it in a second if you even tried.

Stalking down the road, you set your sights on the Grimes’ house, figuring that would be the best place to start your search for Carl, if he was in fact watching Judith today. When you make the corner towards the house, you groan as you spot Spencer, heading straight towards where you came. Too late to avoid him, as he was currently heading in your direction with a cocky smirk on his face.

Still, you try to swerve around his path, to no avail, “What are you doing up here? Come all the way out to the gates to see me off?”

You frown at him, before pointedly looking back to where Daryl was leaning on his bike down the road a ways, “Actually, I was going to see Daryl off. He's going on a run today, too.”

“Oh, really?” Spencer looks behind you, dissatisfied at your answer. “You know, you can still come on this run with me, if you want. I'm sure someone else can watch Judy.”

“Judith,” you correct, crossing your arms over your chest. No matter how much you wanted to go on a run, you wouldn't be caught dead out there with Spencer. Hell, he could actually wind up getting you killed with the way he works, from what you'd heard. “No thanks.”

“Okay, but hey, how about when I come back, you come over to my place for dinner?”

“Look, Spencer, no hard feelings, but I really am not looking for a relationship right now,” you lie, trying to let him down easy again.

He gives a nod, as if he understands, but then comments, “Yeah, I get that. You don’t want to get attached with the way things are out there.”

“Thank you for understanding,” for once, you find yourself smiling at Spencer Monroe, hoping that will be the end of it and maybe he’d set his sights on someone else.

“Of course,” he reaches forward, making you tense up as his hand rubs at your forearm familiarly, dashing your hopes of his moving on to pieces, “I mean, we don't have to get attached, if that's what you want. We can keep it… casual.”

“Spencer, no!” you wrinkle your nose in disgust, pushing his hand off of you. You were through being nice with him. “I’m not into you! I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is. Please, accept my answer and leave me alone!”

He glares down at you, his hand coming back to grip your arm before you can turn to walk away from him, “What, so you tease me for weeks and then act like you want nothing to do with me? I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play---”

“Let,” you stare him down, regardless of the height he had on you, “me go.”

He doesn’t look like he plans on doing what you say, about to open his mouth again, but before he gets the chance, you realize you’ve caught the attention of more than just each other with the spectacle going on between you.

“You heard her,” Michonne begins, glaring at Spencer as her hand rests at her uniform belt far more threateningly than it seemed at first glance.

But it’s Rick’s glare that has you on edge, his voice coming out sharp and demanding as he orders, “Let her go, Spencer.”

For a heated instant, Spencer looks between Michonne and Rick, seemingly weighing his options, before he reluctantly throws your arm away from him as if he’s disgusted with you, “Fine, but this is none of your business.”

“You just made it our business by grabbing (Y/N) like that,” Michonne begins, her tenseness softening only by a fraction now that Spencer’s hands aren’t on you. Still, she looked cold as ice at him.

Rick, however, had your full attention, though he had yet to speak again. He was glaring down Spencer, who was otherwise oblivious to just how deep the fire in Rick’s eyes were, his jaw clenched tight as he didn’t say a single word. You were on edge, but glad for the distance that was now slightly between you and Spencer.

“We were just talking, isn’t that right?” Spencer begins, glancing towards you, but you don’t dare to agree with him.

“Don’t ever come near me again, understand?” you coldly reply, being sure to firmly order his distance from you from hereon in. You raise your voice a bit, demanding an answer, “Understand?”

“Yeah,” Spencer huffs, rolling his shoulders back in annoyance, unable to help himself from snapping at you under his breath as he turns to leave, “ _Bitch_.”

“Hey, Spencer?” it’s so quick you can’t stop it; Rick takes two quick strides towards the other man and slams his fist into his jaw just as soon as Spencer’s head turns back in his direction, sending him sprawling to the ground at the force of it. Your own hands jump to your mouth, a sharp gasp erupting from you, Michonne moving to take a step towards Rick to pull him off if she needs to, which she doesn’t, because after the first punch, Rick is leaning over Spencer with a deadly look as he tilts his head to keep the glare of the man on the ground, “You don’t talk to her that way. Actually, from this point on, you don’t talk to her at all. You don’t look at her, you don’t even breathe in her general direction.” Rick’s head follows Spencer’s gaze trapping him from being able to avert it, “I catch wind of you botherin’ (Y/N) anymore, and you’ll wish I didn’t. Get it?”

Rick raises to his full height after that, while Spencer picks himself off the ground, a deep resentment in his voice as he begrudgingly responds, “Got it.”

Rick’s attention turns to you, standing wide-eyed next to an easily just as on-edge Michonne, though her stare held more confusion than much else when she questions, “Rick?”

Rick spares her a glance, not bothering to explain himself as he moves to your side, his hand finding your arm firmly, “Let’s get you home.” You’re so stunned that he actually hit Spencer that you don’t say a word until you find yourself being pulled into his house, finding Carl with Judith in the living room.

Carl pops his head up, catching sight of you and smiling before he notices the mood that surrounds you, “What’s wrong?”

“Carl, take Judith outside for a bit,” Rick says, but Carl sits there for a second until Rick repeats, “Carl!”

“Okay, I’m goin’,” Carl scoops her up, walking briskly past the two of you to find his way outside, sparing you a questioning glance on his way. The door shuts behind him, and that’s when you finally speak.

“Way to be discreet, Rick! Don’t take this the wrong way, Spencer is an asshole, but clocking him in the middle of the street for callin’ me a bitch?” you begin, quickly silencing yourself when his eyes turn to you, a steely blue that was almost dangerous.

“You know it was more than that! He laid his hands on you! Disrespected you! You want me to just stand by and watch him treat you like that? Sorry, I can’t do that,” Rick growls, giving you his angry head-tilt again. Dammit, you were trying your hardest not to be turned on right now.

“Of course I don’t want you to just stand there and watch, but now Spencer’s gonna’ tell Deanna you just _assaulted_ him, Michonne thinks you’ve lost it, and Carl was just run out of his own house!” his firm grip on your arm doesn’t retract at your words, “I didn’t want any of that! Everyone's gonna’ be talking about it now--- prying into why you acted like that!”

“Then let’s tell ‘em why! You think I give a damn what anyone thinks of us anymore?” Rick takes a step closer, his chest brushing against your own as you gape up at him. Did he mean that?

“B-But Maggie… Carl…” you protest weakly, lost in the intensity of his eyes. He was dead serious.

“Let ‘em know. I don’t care anymore,” his hand moves to give just as firm a grip at your waist, pulling you flush against him, “I don’t want anyone else making the mistake of thinkin’ you aren’t all mine.”

“That goes both ways, you know,” you begin, your heart thumping against his, leaning into him as your hands trail up to grip at his shoulders beneath the constable uniform he was wearing, “if I’m yours, you’re mine. I’ve seen the way Mrs. Anderson looks at you.”

“Honey, I was already yours,” Rick murmurs, dipping his head to capture your lips in his kiss, but this one is different. It’s softer, smoother... passionate, even, in a way that wasn’t just lust-filled, even though the budding ache in your abdomen was certainly still there for him. The curls at the back of his neck tickle in your fingers as he kisses you deep, drawing out every feeling between you through his lips on yours. By the time he breaks from you, breathing a little heavy against your lips, he doesn’t need to say it, but he still does, “I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/N).”

Your own breath shudders against his at the confession, taking a moment to search his eyes as he waits your response, before, finally, you tell him, “Rick, I’ve been in love with you for years.”

His arm winds around your waist, tugging you into his lips as he hums against your body, his smile breaking the kiss, “Sounds like I got a lot of time I gotta’ make up for, then.” You gasp against him, surprised at him lifting you into his embrace, before he sets you back down again, but his hands don’t leave you.

You don’t want them to, letting him tug off the jacket that covered the remnants of last night he’d left on your skin as you push off his jacket with the same needy haste he seemed to have. His lips traverse the same trail as the night before, leaving new love bites with the old, urging a bubbly giggle from your throat as he brushes over a ticklish spot. You tug at his tie, unraveling it from around his neck and letting it slip to the ground, discarded at your feet.

Rick’s hands make quick work of your shirt, tugging it over your head before his mouth moves down your chest, nipping above the curve of your bra-line before he soon has that slipping from your body, too. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling his lips back up to yours and nipping teasingly at them, desperate for his intimate attention.

You don’t realize he’s led you to the kitchen table until your lower back hits it. Before you know it, he’s tugging you by his grip on your ass and thighs up onto it. His lips break from your own, slipping down your chest to your navel, the scrape of his beard burning a trail to between your legs. You lift your hips, allowing his hands hooked in the waist of your jeans to tug them from your body, leaving you in only your panties. Your fingers find his hair, the once-styled mess, drawing his attention back to your eyes as his lips find an open mouthed kiss on your inner thigh, only to turn into his tongue licking a stripe towards your center. He doesn’t bother tugging off your panties, instead hiking your leg over his shoulder as you plant the other on the edge of the table, his hand flattening against your stomach while the other simply pushes the fabric of your panties out of his way.

“Rick, holy fuck,” you gasp, desperate for him when he finally does delve in, his tongue parting your folds as he watches you from below. The blue of his eyes glistens in the sunlight, even with his pupils blown with lust the way they were, his eyes watching for any reaction that fluttered along your face. You gasp out, feeling his teeth graze against your clit as the hand that had pushed your panties aside presses a finger against your entrance. His tongue flattens against your clit when he pushes his finger in, long and dexterous, searching for a particular spot inside you. “ _Rick_ ,” your voice hitches along his name, your lungs struggling to figure out how to breathe with the way he was eating you out so relentlessly. Now you knew exactly what it felt like to have his scruff between your thighs--- nearly the death of you.

He moans against you, the vibrations shooting straight into your soul, you’d swear, with how deep it hits you. Your hips raise without your intention, seeking more from him, only to be slammed back down onto the kitchen table with the hand at your stomach. He sucks at your clit, adding a second finger to join the first, stretching you deliciously. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of him.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, he finds what he’d been searching for, the curl of his fingers pressing against the front walls within you sending you crying out and arching your back as they brush against your G-spot, “Rick, oh, God, Rick! Fuck! _Right_ there!” Your hand shoots to his shoulder, digging into the skin there as he doesn’t let up in the least, instead driving again and again into that spot, his tongue working you over in the best way possible as he hums his own moans against you. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna’---” you gasp out, feeling his tongue part from it’s job for him to smirk up at you, your wetness glistening against his lips as he urges you onward.

“Do it, cum on my fingers,” Rick’s voice grunts, husky before he flattens his tongue once more against your clit, holding your heated gaze as you watch him.

“Rick,” you whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you feel yourself come undone to the rhythm of his tongue and fingers. He wasn’t taking any prisoners today, taking all you can give him and then some, up until your foot on the end of the table slips off it with exhaustion and you tug him up by the hair to crash his lips down onto yours.

“Enjoy yourself?” he huffs into your mouth, a self-satisfied smirk upon his lips. You weren’t anywhere close to done with him after that. When his fingers slip out of you, you slide off the kitchen table, dragging him behind you to the sofa and pushing him down onto its cushions.

“Your turn, _Officer_ ,” you wink down at him, and he gets the message. Undoing his belt and slipping it off his waist while you unbutton and slip down his pants, he finds you between his thighs before he realizes it. You go to your knees, giving his freed cock a long stroke before you lean forward to kiss it gently. He watches you, the same intensity in his eyes as when he had had you in this position minutes before, his hands working down the buttons of his dress shirt and revealing his chest and stomach to you. You smooth your hand along his thigh, giving him a squeeze as your other holds his length steady while you trace your tongue up a vein on the underside of it.

“You’re a tease, little girl,” Rick chuckles down at you.

“Only if I don’t finish what I started,” you murmur, your breath brushing against the head of his dick before you take it into your mouth, earning a moan from him that encourages you to take him deeper. His hands that find your hair ensure you don’t let up on him, working him with your mouth and anything you didn’t with your hand. Your tongue swirls around him before you let him push you onto him, fucking your mouth as his hips come off the couch to urge his cock deeper down your throat. You feel your eyes water at the feeling, coming up for air before taking a breath and delving deep on him again, getting a strangled cry when you swallow around him. When cradle his balls, massaging them in your hand, he tugs you off of him by the hair, panting a bit as his length rests, painfully hard against his stomach.

“You keep that up, I won’t last,” Rick growls down at you, tugging you up to straddle his lap as he promises at your lips, “and I want to finish inside you.” You can’t help but moan at that, reluctantly about to protest before he continues, “Fish a condom outta’ my back pocket, won’t you, honey?”

Your eyes widen at that, reaching for his discarded pants to find what he said was true, “Where did you find one?”

“This past run, I went on it,” Rick grins at you, “wanted to surprise you, but we haven’t exactly had a lot of time to be together lately… and last night, I didn’t have one on me.” You straddle him again, crushing his lips with yours, excitement sending a shiver through you at the idea, only for him to suggestively hum, “There were twelve in the pack.”

“That’s twelve times you get to cum inside me, then,” you murmur, ripping the package with your teeth when your hands don’t do the job quick enough before you gingerly roll the condom down the length of his dick. He raises his hips to your touch, as if reflexively, before you grin up at him when you’re through, “There.” He catches you by surprise when he leans forward to set you on the dark oak of the coffee table, “Rick!”

“Are you ready?” Rick questions breathlessly, leaning back to take a good look at you laid out for him, hair a mess around you as you pulled yourself up on your elbows.

You tug him back down, lifting your hips to grind against him as your fingers dig into his shoulder blades, “When haven’t I been?”

He pushes into you, not nearly as slow as last night, but just slow enough for the stretching burn to be barely followed by the immense pleasure of getting filled by him. Your head falls back, leaning off the coffee table as he pushes you up it with his thrust, only to pull out and push in at a more feverish pace. His hand comes between you, thumb rubbing at your clit as you hold on to him, feeling his muscles working beneath your fingertips.

“(Y/N), tell me how you like it,” Rick’s voice is gruff, hoarse, and laced with the desperation of how close he already was, threatening to cum at the second thrust if he didn’t calm himself down.

You quiver around him, already on edge from your last orgasm and feeling a second incoming fast, “I like it. I want you to do me, just like this, Rick.” Your lips trail along his neck as you arch your back, pressing your chest against his as he picks his pace up, hitting you deep just how you liked while his fingers circled your clit, sending electric pulses through your body at the feeling. You intentionally clench your walls around him when he pulls out on a thrust, enjoying the reaction you get.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rick gasps against you, letting out a low groan as his thrusts become erratic, his pace faltering, but neither of you care, both chasing your orgasm in equal strides, “Do--- Do that again.”

You do as he says on the next thrust, earning a strangled growl from Rick that has him burying his face into your neck as he fucks you within an inch of your life, hitting you hard at an angle that takes you right where you need him each time. You were a mess beneath him, much in the same sense as he was above you, the table beneath you shaking with the weight of your bodies and his thrusts, threatening to break at any instant, despite how sturdy it had initially seemed. It took everything you had to try to keep up with his pace, sometimes faltering in your pacing, but he hardly cared at this point.

“(Y/N),” he moans into your skin, his hips stammering against your own as he gasps out, “I’m close.”

This time, you’re the one encouraging him, “Come on, I want it. I want you to cum, just like this. Please, I need it.” You say whatever it could take, nearly delirious with your own orgasm hot on his heels. He curses against you, dragging you against him and slightly off the table as he almost leans back on his haunches, nearly losing his balance as he gets lost in the feeling, right before you come tumbling after him, feeling your whole body erupt with a pleasure that has you gasping for air through your deep moans of his name. Your grip on him never wavers, though, your fingers pressing hard into his shoulder blades as you find yourself grinding yourself against him to ride out your own pleasure as long as it will take you.

Rick urges you up from your spot on the table, acutely aware of how uncomfortable it had come to be after the throes of your passion had sated themselves, “Come here, honey.” He offers his hand, tugging you towards him.

You can barely stand, following him only in the sense of you collapsing against his body on the couch, thoroughly spent as you curl against him, your body over his, straddling one of his thighs. It takes you a second to realize he’s tugged off his condom and tugged it into a closed knot that was discarded on top of his pants for now.

Resting against his chest, you hum jokingly, “Who woulda’ thought, Rick Grimes, all mine?”

His chuckle reverberates in his chest, his hand tilting your chin up to look at him, “Yeah, gotta’ say, I didn’t see it comin’ either, little girl.”


End file.
